Monthly Archives: February 2016

May I call you this, for I feel I know you? I MUST write this letter to you because you are so real to me. I agree with the Irish poet W.B.Yeats, who described you as ‘the handsomest young man in England’. You are one of my favourite poets – not only for your good looks, but because of your poems too. One of your famous poems, and one of my favourite is ‘The Soldier’, and I quote it below.

If I should die, think only this of me:
That there’s some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England’s, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

Like this:

This is for the poetry people who humour me in my quest for the perfect tiny form of poetry. I discovered the Florette when I realised the thing I was calling a Florette was actually called an Essence. I also discovered that I liked the real Florette better than the Essence. The Florette is too … Continue reading Florescence

So, this is the post you have all been waiting for. The badger latrine post. Over the last few months I have been catching up on a lifetime of having missed out on ‘nature’. Some people recognise birdsong, birds, animal tracks and animal poo without really noticing it. I don’t. I was brought up in … Continue reading Death and poo

I missed a couple of words out of the second poem. Not the Oracle’s fault—migraine. Broken heart heals with morning light. I wake to the memory of starfire and green ghosts, dancing to the rhythm of my yesterdays. When we were young, the smell of skin was so sweet, the stuff … Continue reading The stuff of dreams

A special ‘trinity’ for Saint Patrick’s Day. In praise of nature, one with ways of moon and sun— long years past, cross bringing, and tears in bells ringing, they came, the holy men— never the same again. Advertisements